


Lionheart

by babyboytroye



Category: tronnor - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Connor will always be there for him, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Graphic Description, Hurt Troye, Insecurity, M/M, Other Youtubers will come in later, Purging, Troye is Connor's baby, Troye is going through a rough time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyboytroye/pseuds/babyboytroye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How much do you weigh?"</p><p> </p><p>"Enough."</p><p> </p><p>His skin was as white as snow and as cold as winter. Eyes once blue now grey and bruised. Bony shoulders holding the weight of the world while his knobby knees and dainty legs keep him standing. His reflection haunts him just as much food does. He's running on nothing but nothing is stopping him.</p><p>Connor still thinks he's beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for eating disorder

"How much do you weigh?"

 

"Enough."

 

His skin was as white as snow and as cold as winter. Eyes once blue now grey and bruised. Bony shoulders holding the weight of the world while his knobby knees and dainty legs keep him standing. His reflection haunts him just as much food does. He's running on nothing but nothing is stopping him.

Connor still thinks he's beautiful.

The only thing that is keeping Troye alive at this point. The only one who hasn't turned his back on him because he was scared of what Troye was becoming. The loving boy that wakes Troye up every day with a gentle kiss and breakfast in bed. Even when Troye can't finish it, or days where he gets sick just by looking at it, he always looks him in the eye with all the love in the world and quietly whispers, "I'm proud of you." Even when some days he wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of the front door opening and a panting Troye walking in, sweat dripping from his body that's seconds away from collapsing. Even when he finds him kneeling by the toilet, fingers shoved down his throat and blood staining the porcelain. Even when the numbers on the scale keep going down instead of going up. Even when some days Troye is too weak to find the strength to kiss him back or get up from bed. Those four words are always whispered into Troye's skin like a secret.

"I'm proud of you."


	2. found

Troye has had a problem eating since he was young- eleven to be exact. He was always naturally on the thinner side, but something about the way his bones protruded interested him. He remembers having a notebook full of pictures of people who's bones painfully showed, "thinspiration" as people call it. He'd always write down what he had eaten that day and measurements of his waist and how far he was from his weight goal. He was the happiest he had ever been.

 

Until his mom found his notebook. He remembers walking into his room one day to her sitting on his bed looking through the pages with tears in her eyes. She was absolutely heartbroken. Heartbroken that she didn't know that her baby was doing this to himself; that he was detoriating before her very own eyes. But what she didn't understand was that he was happy.

 

So she locked him up in a facility for people like himself who had the same issue. "Eating Disorder" they would call it. They would say that at this rate he wouldn't live to thirty and that he was slowly killing himself from the inside out. They would pin him down and force feed him until he vomited all over the floor. They would give him looks of pity, clean it up, and then try to feed him again.

 

Those were the worst six months of his life.

 

When he got out he got sneakier. When his mom would bring him food to his bedroom he would wait until she left to toss it out into a trash bag he had under his bed. The first few weeks she didn't trust him enough to eat by himself, so she would force him to have dinner downstairs at the table with his whole family. All eyes were on him, watching his every move, making sure the food actually went into his mouth and not in his pocket or napkin. One night he begged her to not make him eat down there again. She was hesitant at first, but as soon as he broke down crying and told her that it was harmful to his recovery eating in front of people, she let him eat in his room. Of course at first she sat in there and made sure he ate, and on those days he'd vomit into the trash bag under his bed until everything was gone. To hide his protruding bones he started to wear oversized sweatshirts and painted his nails often to cover the discoloration. He was smart about it.

When he moved out to California, life couldn't of had been better.

 

He didn't have to hide anymore. Didn't have to hide a trashbag under his bed and worry about it smelling his room. Didn't have to worry about someone finding his notebook full of his darkest secrets. Didn't have to pretend to eat. Now he just wouldn't eat at all. He'd work out for as long as he wanted to and if he fainted, no one was around to worry about him and take him to a hospital. The numbers on the scale were dropping so quickly and he was finally so proud of himself, nothing could get in the way.

 

That was, until Connor showed up.

 

They met in the nearby gym one day when Troye was doing his daily workouts. Troye was on the treadmill while Connor was lifting weights. Troye swore he kept feeling eyes on him, so when he looked up his eyes found the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. When their eyes met, Connor threw him a warm smile and unashamedly kept his eyes on him. Troye then threw him a, "what the fuck are you looking at" kind of face that made Connor laugh and go back to his workout. This went on for about an hour until Troye felt lightheaded enough to stop his workout for the day. When he stepped off of the machine dark spots danced in front of his vision and the blood rushed to his head. As his body was about to collapse, strong arms wrapped around his waist and kept him up. Those arms belonged to none other than Connor.

 

Troye was both happy and scared that he had found Connor that day. Happy that he finally found someone who understood him and cared so deeply about him. However, scared that this meant change in his daily routine and a stop to his, what he called, "diet."

He couldn't let anything get in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of scary how much I enjoy writing about eating disorders.


	3. smaller

Troye sighed deeply and closed his eyes, carefully stepping up onto the one thing that haunted him the most: the scale. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he tried to calm his frantically beating heart. He took a deep breath before slowly opening his eyes and looking down at the numbers that would surely haunt his mind.

 

112

 

"Disgusting." Troye mumbled to himself, stepping off the scale and throwing on his oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants.

 

Well, Connor's sweatshirt and sweatpants.

 

Troye smiled softly to himself as he thought about his boyfriend. He exited the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. He had done nothing today, absolutely nothing, and yet his body felt like it couldn't function any longer. He closed his eyes tightly when his stomach growled, ignoring the hunger cramps before he did something he would most definitely regret later.

 

And he really didn't have the strength to spend a half hour kneeling in front of the toilet emptying the contents of his stomach. So eating was out of the question.

 

So he welcomed the sweet darkness of sleep and let his breaths even out.

 

×××

 

"Wake up, angel." A gentle voice cooed, a warm hand pressed firmly to the small of his back. He groaned loudly and moved closer to the voice that he knew all too well. He heard a quiet giggle and flinched when a kiss was pressed onto his forehead. "Stop being cute. You need to get up and eat dinner." Troye finally opened his eyes to look at the beautiful human being kneeling before him. Connor's eyes lit up when he saw the flash of blue and started pressing little kisses all over his face. "Look at those eyes." He praised.

 

Troye laughed weakly, hand reaching up to tangle itself into the soft hair on top of Connor's head. "I'm too tired to get up, Con." He whined and stuck his lips out slightly.

 

Connor raised an eyebrow and softly kissed the pout on his boyfriends face. "My poor baby." He jokingly cooed, eyes lighting up with a playful glint. "I guess I'll just have to carry you then."

 

"What-" Troye let out a squeal when he felt his body being lifted up. He quickly wound his arms around Connor's neck as the older boy wrapped his arms securely around his shoulders and lower back. "Connor, put me down."

 

Connor shook his head and made his way to the dining room, ignoring the weak protests coming out of Troye's mouth.

 

"I'm too heavy-"

 

"You're too light." Connor stated as he set Troye down on one of the chairs in the dining room. His eyebrows furrowed as he passed his hand over Troye's ribcage through his sweatshirt, only to have his hands pushed away.

 

"Stop that." Troye snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the boy. "You know I hate it when you do that."

 

"I'm sorry, babe." Connor gently uncrossed his arms. "I'm just a little worried." His eyes scanned over Troye's gaunt cheeks and hungry eyes. "Have you lost weight?"

 

Troye froze and fought back tears. He shook his head firmly and stared at the floor. "You know I used to be smaller."

 

It's true. Troye's lowest weight was 106 until Connor walked in on him weighing himself one day. He told him everything and he had never seen Connor cry before that day. After he told him everything, he and Connor made a deal that he wouldn't go to the hospital if he ate more. Of course he agreed.

 

He'd do anything not to go back there.

 

Connor sighed sadly and nodded his head. "You're still beautiful." Connor muttered softly, pressing a soft kiss onto Troye's neck and burying his face there.

 

Troye smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around Connor's neck. "You're too good to me."

 

Connor shook his head. "I could be better." He spoke softly. Troye frowned and looked down at the boy. "If I was so good you'd believe me when I tell you you're beautiful."


	4. sleepless nights

Truth is, Connor doesn't sleep most nights.

 

Nights were when he couldn't shut his mind off no matter how hard he tried. He'd toss and turn which would make Troye groan loudly and tell him to, "stay the fuck still." Of course, he'd always add a sweet, "I love you" when Connor would finally settle down.

 

What Troye didn't know was that he was the reason Connor's mind was on complete overdrive.

 

Connor always worried about him. Always worried about how much he had eaten that day, if he had eaten at all. Always thought about how Troye felt about himself and what he could do to change his perspective. How he can show him how impossibly beautiful he is. Maybe if he tells him more he'll believe it. Maybe if he stood him in front of a mirror and listed off all of the infinite things he loved about him and his body he'll believe it.

 

He had to believe it.

 

Because how could someone as beautiful as Troye not know how breathtaking he was? Connor held so much resentment for the people in Troye's life who didn't help him see it.

 

"Baaaaaabe." Troye whined and dragged out the nickname, eyes opening and revealing those ocean blue eyes.

 

Well, they're mostly grey now but Connor remembers a time when they were blue.

 

"What's wrong, angel?"

 

"Can you stop?" Connor frowned in confusion, but quickly realized that he was tapping his fingers absentmindedly on Troye's back. He stopped the movement and shot the boy an apologetic smile. Troye rolled his eyes and burrowed his face back into Connor's chest.

 

"Go to sleep." Connor nodded his head sadly as his eyes scanned Troye's unhealthy thin arms that were wrapped around his torso, sharp bones painfully digging into him.

 

"Okay, baby." His eyes scanned his body once more as tears brimmed his eyes. "I love you so much, my beautiful boy." His hand ran down his back soothingly.

 

He tried to ignore how he could easily feel Troye's spine. If he took his shirt off he could probably count his vertebrae too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys like it so far?


	5. routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be slightly triggering.

_Move as much as possible._

 

Troye and Connor were sat on the couch watching a documentary Connor picked out, and the only thing that Troye could focus on was moving. He bounced his legs and tapped his fingers, made sure to sit up straight. _Little things that would burn calories._

 

“Angel, you feeling okay?” Connor looked down at where Troye sat tensely next to him. He placed a gentle hand on Troye's knee to stop the movement. Troye looked up and smiled at Connor, leaning in to press a soft kiss onto his lips.

 

“Of course.” Troye reassured, grinning shyly when Connor grabbed him by his waist and hoisted him onto his lap. Troye placed his hands on Connor's shoulders and giggled when he started to place sweet kisses onto his neck. Troye closed his eyes and ran his fingers through the soft strands of hair resting on top of Connor's head.

 

“Beautiful boy.” Connor mumbled between kisses, sucking a bruise onto Troye's neck. Troye whimpered quietly, unconsciously shuffling closer to him. Connor's grip tightened on him, letting go to grab the bottom of Troye's oversized sweatshirt.

 

Troye's eyes widened, breaking the kiss and stopping Connor's hands. “Not tonight, baby.” Troye demanded softly, getting off of Connor's lap. Connor pouted, reaching for Troye.

 

“Where are you going?” Connor asked, eyes furrowing when Troye made his way out of the living room.

 

Troye turned around and smiled at him. “Just to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

 

  
_Stand over the toilet, do not kneel_

 

Troye turned on the faucet and stood over the toilet. He put the lid up and shoved his fingers to the back of his throat. He coughed a couple of times, eyes watering and drool spilling from his mouth. He kept his fingers against the back of his throat and placed a firm hand against his stomach. Soon he felt the familiar burn of the acid traveling up his throat and coughed harshly. When he was done, he flushed the toilet _twice_ before washing his hands. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash and spit it into the sink.   
When he made his way back to the living room, he found Connor sitting quietly on the couch with the documentary paused. Connor looked up and his eyes softened when they landed on Troye's dainty body. “I made us some macaroni and cheese.” Connor stated softly, eyes scanning Troye's body when he tensed up visibly.

 

“You didn’t have to.” Troye plastered on a smile and sat down next to Connor.

 

Connor shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. “I remember your mom saying it was your favorite when you were a kid.” He noticed Troye’s grimace when he looked down at the food and sighed. “Are you doing it again?” Connor asked timidly.

 

Troye shook his head quickly. “No, I’m better.” Troye reassured, placing a hand on Connor’s arm. “It’s just hard, to think about.” Connor frowned. “I barely ate when I was a child. So, remembering a time when I had a favorite food is kind of hard. It was so long ago.” Connor listened intently, knowing how hard it was to get him to open up. So he soaked up anything he could get. “Thank you, let me just grab my water.” Troye pressed a kiss against Connor's cheek and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle.

 

_Cold water burns more calories._

 

He made his way back to Connor and sat down on him, startling a giggle out of the boy. Troye wrapped his arms around his neck and placed a hard kiss onto his lips. Connor groaned and pulled away, lips grazing over Troye's. “Eat, please.” Troye rolled his eyes and nipped gently at Connor's bottom lip before pulling away. He settled more comfortably onto Connor's lap and grabbed his bowl of food. Connor watched him for a second before grabbing his own bowl, digging right in. Troye gathered a small proportion of food onto his fork and slowly put it in his mouth. He chewed slowly but thoroughly.

 

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7_

 

He swallowed harshly, quickly grabbing his water and chugging it.

 

_Water makes you full._

 

“Don’t drink too much, Tro.” Connor scolded him gently. “Then you won’t want to eat your food.”

  
Troye didn’t reply, instead gathered more mac and cheese onto his fork and putting it into his mouth.

 

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7_

 

He grabbed his water again, seeing Connor shake his head slightly from the corner of his eye.

 

_Water makes it easier for it to come out later._

 

When Troye was done with half of the bowl, he set it down on the table next to the couch and slumped against Connor's body. He swallowed the bile that was already gathering in his throat and tried to relax his body. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Connor watched him closely, placing a kiss onto the side of Troye’s head and resting his lips there. “You full?”

 

Troye bit back the tears and nodded his head.

 

_He let it control his life._

 


End file.
